


EXECUTE(SELF)

by ashkatom



Series: 100 Follower Ficathon [5]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-30
Updated: 2012-07-30
Packaged: 2017-11-11 01:42:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashkatom/pseuds/ashkatom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sollux has been knocked out, Eridan Ampora is on the rampage, and how do you even stop someone when you can't move?</p>
            </blockquote>





	EXECUTE(SELF)

**Author's Note:**

> WHOA HEY THIS ONE NEEDS WARNING. Shit happens to Sollux while he's awake but paralysed. No rape, but yeah. If you're easily squicked or triggered by helplessness, this is not the fic you are looking for.
> 
> Prompt: "Oh i am so down for this! Prompt: All psionics are extremely sensitive to head injuries, and have a sort of defense mechanism where the body shuts down and paralyzes after impact so as not to fry itself with psionics. Someone(Karkat, Eridan, ANYONE) discovers this and uses it to his advantage against Sollux~ Use your imagination, any genre~~~"

You are thinking through an ocean of cotton candy. The neurons of your brain are firing slowly, too slowly, half-speed and losing altitude, and you can’t remember a thing.

Incorrect. Step through the routines, Sollux. Keep it simple, strip it back. Ignore now and focus on how you got here.

~ATH(THIS)         {

~import universe (U1);

No wait, that’s probably a bit far back. Stupid of you.

~import

Import what, exactly? Come on, Sollux, you could do this in your sleep. You _have_ done this in your sleep, there’s shit all over your walls from you picking up whatever you could and writing with it.

~import troll (SELF)

Okay, okay, you suck, but it’s a start.

// 2elf: the iidiiot 2tuck here thiinkiing iin ath two try two fiigure out where exactly hii2 liife went all the way wrong.  
// ok that wa2 har2h.

Now what do you do? You need to figure out what the fuck has happened to your head and why you can’t move. This would be a lot easier if you didn’t feel like half your head was tied to a stake. Is this what bicyclops feels like? All the time?

You need to treat your lusus better, if it’s not too late.

Ignore that. Keep going.

~import troll (EVERYONE)

Sloppy syntax, but whatever, you’re coding in your head to jog your memory, whether or not it throws up errors and leaks like a boat is irrelevant.

Okay, List everyone, Sollux, you know who they are. AA (christ AA, you don’t like that feeling), TV, NP, KK, KN, TZ, VK, EQ, GZ, ED, FF. Their names make you feel hollow, even if your head is stuck in tar. Why?

~import game (SGRUB)

~ATH (SGRUB)  {

Okay. Okay, fuck, you remember the game. That’s good, you would be screwed six ways from Sunday if you’d forgotten the game. You’re still kind of screwed since you’re stuck here and presumably meteorbait, but-

Meteor. Backtrack, import meteor.

// fuck fuck FUCK FUCK

Okay. Okay, you’re stuck on a meteor. Good. Well, the complete opposite of good, but you know where you are. You’re on a meteor, somewhere. _Think,_ Sollux. If you’re stuck on a meteor, helpless, why would you be-

~import memories.self (MEMSELF)

EXECUTE(~ATH(MEMSELF)

//oh god aa  
//oh god ff  
//ff why oh god he kiilled you he 2hot you and iit wa2 becau2e of me oh fuck ff ii’m 2orry aa ii’m 2orry ii’m 2uch a fuckup even when ii try to not be ii wa2 2o fuckiing happy and ii diidn’t thiink  
//everyone ii2 dead  
//everyone ii2 dead and ii mu2t be two  
//no ii’m 2o 2iick of dyiing  


You had been in the mainframes. They’d gone down again, for no reason other than this meteor is hostile and wants to inconvenience you in every way possible. In addition to being the only one to understand the stupid things, you’re also the only one skinny enough to crawl around in there, with the possible exception of NP.

//fuck, NP, EQ  


So you were prime fucking murder material, because fate hates you. You didn’t even know what was happening.

//where the fuck am ii  


Calm down, Sollux. You’re thinking. You’re not dead yet.

So ED came and found you once he’d done for FF, covered in her blood, _ff, fuck, ff_ , _you are thirteen sweeps old and not ready for these games_ , and you’d hit your head, and...

Oh.

Fuck being a psionic. Fuck psionic self-defenses. Fuck your tendency to pass out if you whack your skull on the mainframes when you see someone covered in your matesprit’s blood. Fuck Eridan Ampora’s stupid black tendencies, and fuck your shortening lifespan.

MEMSELF.DIE();

Your head is clearing. You still can’t do anything.

You are going to die.

“Sol,” something says from far away. You feel something hit what may or may not be your shoulder, but you get a bit dissociative with your body when you’re like this. “Sol, you fuckin awake yet?”

EXECUTE(SELF)

Nope.

EXECUTE(SELF)

Not happening. You are going to be out for at least another quarter of an hour, if the floating feeling you’re experiencing is any indicator. You are at the mercy of the most nasally, weaselling, casteist seadweller ever to exist. And he has a black crush on you.

EXECUTE(SELF) EXECUTE(SELF) EXECUTE(SELF) FUCKIING HELL EXECUTE(SELF)

You feel something settle on your chest and wish you could open your eyes.

“I got her back, Sol,” ED says, and it seems too loud. It echoes through your thinkpan and burns all the way down your slosh. His voice sounds feverish with excitement and if you were capable of it you think you’d be sick. “I got _Fef_ , she’s not yours any more, she’s goin’ to be _mine_ and you _never_ deserved her.”

You can’t even tell him how stupid he’s being, _FF is dead_.

“I told ‘em,” he says. Apparently audience participation isn’t necessary in this fucked-up play of his. “Hope is dead, I know hope is dead, I’m the fuckin’ hero of hope, ain’t I? But they wouldn’t listen to me, _Fef_ wouldn’t even listen to me an’ she used to know when I was right.”

You wish you could sneer.

“You’d agree with me though,” he says, oh fuck everything, you’re pretty sure he’s taking your shirt off, you are so fucked, EXECUTE(SELF) _PLEASE_. “The Mage a’ Doom and the Prince a’ Hope. I know you know I’m right, Sol, about all the hope bein’ gone. There was only one sane option left, it’s not my fault they couldn’t see it.”

You can’t move, you are helpless, _you have never been helpless before and you don’t like it_.

“You wouldn’t agree with me though, would you?” You feel something rip into your skin and can’t scream, can’t fight back, your brain is flooding with panic and still sluggish and it is a terrifying combination, you are _lost_. “You’re a sucker for a lost cause and you _love_ sacrificin’ yourself for lost causes.”

EXECUTE(SELF)

Oh. Okay. Your eyelids are opening, even if it’s only a little. Eridan is – _covered in FF’s blood, oh fuck_ – sitting on you, a claw of his digging into your skin and ripping a second line into you. He’s a blur of purples and a speck of gold through your eyelashes, and it hits you in a flood that he’s just a kid, you’re all just kids, and he has _murdered_.

You’re not aware the high, keening noise in the room is coming from you until Eridan looks at you.

“I’m joinin’ Jack,” he says slowly.

“Nnnng!” you say. Eloquent as always, Sollux, the hopes of this asteroid rests on your shoulders and you can’t even talk a crazy guy down.

Maybe that’s why Eridan is black for you. Crazy and useless knows crazy and useless. You hope he murders you soon, the world doesn’t deserve to have to deal with you.

He lifts your head, and you see he’s carved his symbol into your chest. It’s got two lines, but other than that his desecration of your body is depressing. You had hoped to die symmetrically.

“I’m not goin’ to offer to let you join me,” he says, “because that would take all the fun out of it.” He kisses your forehead and it feels wrong, like burning. You still can’t flinch away, but you can stare him down with your half-opened eyes.

“Don’t,” you manage to say around your tongues.

“Fef said that too,” he says. “Mornin’, Sol. See you in the fight.”

He knocks you over the head again and your self-defense kicks in, like you _don’t_ want to fry your brain right now. Everything goes dark and maybe you won’t have to think for a while.

SELF.DIE();

~

} EXECUTE(NULL);

THIS.DIE();


End file.
